


You Did This?

by Vanfell



Series: Fictober 2020 [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fictober 2020, Flashbacks, Gen, Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Sad, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanfell/pseuds/Vanfell
Summary: In which Rhea recalls a tragic incident in her life and the repercussions it brought finally catch up to her.Piece for the third prompt of Fictober 2020The Prompt: "You Did This?"
Relationships: Rhea & Sothis (Fire Emblem)
Series: Fictober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949335
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	You Did This?

Her home was on fire. Yet despite this, the burning panic inside Seiros’s soul was far more painful. Cichol and Cethleann should have been in her thoughts given they were her own kin. Everything that ought to have mattered to the woman was in flames, crumbling away, and yet, desperation spurred her to run onwards. All that mattered, everything that mattered, was at the centre of the city. Sothis. Her mother. Her world. It was at risk. If she didn’t make it in time to save her, then, well, there would be no point to living on. Such a thought could hardly be entertained. Everything would work out fine. She’d make it there on time, she’d save her mother. Then Sothis could finish healing, return to her slumber. Seiros would sit by her tomb every day as she always did. Feet fell hard against the cracked ground, tears splattering into the cracks of the dry earth. Someone had to keep Sothis company, did they not? Seiros knew that her sleeping mother enjoyed being regaled about her day, all the different things she had done. There was a new painting that she had to share. Her and her mother frolicking through the fields, long before this war had ever been a thing. Hopefully long after the war as well.

The tomb stood before Seiros. Hallowed, wreathed with the most beautiful architecture that the Nabateans could fashion. No expense would be spared when it came to ensuring her mother was cared for. Marble, carved with loving labour. Beautiful oak doors adorned with vistas, tableaus of the wondrous beauty that their progienter had gifted upon them. Oak doors which no longer resided upon their hinges. Oak doors that laid shattered in half upon the floor. Seiros felt that overwhelming rush of panic surge forth once more. Bile pushing at the back of her throat. Yet, she could not allow her body to grow weak. Legs forced themselves to move, her hands unsheathing her blade. There was still time to save. There was still time to spend with her. There was still time. There was still time. 

Her mantra was the only thing that kept her moving. That forced her panic away. Optimistic thoughts of their beautiful reunion. Even as her hair flowed behind her head from the speed of her pursuit, Seiros knew deep down in her heart that there was nothing to worry about. mother. Her mother would be fine. She’d fight to protect her mother. A corner was turned in the tomb, her sandals skidding against the masonry. Before her very eyes resided the resting place of the Progienter God. Sothis. Her mother. Her life. Her light. 

But when she arrived that was not what she saw. Not what she saw in the slightest. All she saw was the blood, splattered, all across that sacred ground. Her mother’s face shrouded by her hair, stuck to the face from all the dried blood. Crouched over her body, a gargantuan man. Meaty fists, furs draped around his neck. In his hands, a carving knife. In her mother’s flesh, a carving knife. Those holy bones being ripped free. As if the intruder knew he had been spotted, he rose up. Sothis’s limp form dangled in one meaty paw. His features, demonic. Red eyes blazing like a creature straight from hell. Rugged skin eroded by the wind, his scars testament to demonic knowledge. Every inch of him pulled from her nightmares. Even as she felt the ground fall away from beneath her, Seiros clutched to some naive hope. Perhaps… perhaps this nightmare figure was saving her mother. Or perhaps he had merely found her. A looter was not as bad as killer. Her voice choked, as she fell to her knees. Perhaps she vomited. She knew she sobbed. 

“You did this?”

That memory still haunted Rhea. It never left her mind. Nemesis was dead and buried, yet his influence lingered forever more. It had driven her to such lengths that the scene unfolding in front of her now had come to pass solely because of him. Perhaps this Holy Tomb wasn’t the same place as the one where her mother had been laid to rest. It did not matter. Before her stood the vessel that she so desperately yearned would love her. It had struggled to show emotion for so long, even as it had arrived at the monastery. Now, it was finally able to emote. Such a shame that emotion was scorn, pain, hurt, directed at Rhea. Byleth’s hands shook as she ran them down the face of her mother. Sitri laid to rest, used as an experiment by Rhea. Rhea knew in her core what was coming. It had been etched into her soul, and now it had returned to haunt her. Byleth turned. Tears in her eyes, and pain in her voice. A hint of howling anger, a shaking finger pointed at the Archbishop. Ah. Here it came.

“You did this?”


End file.
